


Tonight, We'll Be Fine

by Adolphus Longestaffe (adolphus_longestaffe)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-15 00:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17518949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adolphus_longestaffe/pseuds/Adolphus%20Longestaffe
Summary: One of my pieces for the amazing They Loved Each Other zine!





	Tonight, We'll Be Fine

 

 

 

Jack is comfortable in the Army. He’s always been good at fitting in, and the actual job is easy to him. Compared to the up-before-dawn, 18-hour days of backbreaking physical labor during Indiana harvest season, the Army’s physical demands are a cakewalk. He does his job and he does it well. He helps the men around him do theirs well, too. He’d been the galvanizing force on his team of six when their platoon leader had been killed at Camp Sierra in the Afghan mountains, where Corporal Morrison’s courage under fire had earned him a bullet in the gut. Fortunately, it had come with a promotion and a Bronze Star attached.

When he’d been invited (Army talk for “ordered”) to join the SEP, he would’ve jumped at the chance, even if he’d had a choice. This was an opportunity to be part of something that might prove to be the last hope for a world in its knees. He got his orders, said goodbye to his buddies, and shipped off to Fort Huachuca, to be trained under the expert guidance of Warrant Officer Gabriel Reyes.

Gabriel Reyes had been a staff sergeant with the 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta out of Fort Bragg. When the Army offered him and nine other Delta Force NCOs positions as warrant officers in the Soldier Enhancement Program, Reyes had almost turned it down. He’d worked his ass off to earn the right to wear that iconic green beret. But after a long telephone conversation with his sister, in which she’d reminded him that this might be his chance to end this war for good, he’d accepted.

At thirty-four, Reyes is the youngest of the chiefs (the leaders of the SEP units). He quickly earns a reputation for being the toughest son of a bitch the Army has ever seen. On duty, he is relentless with his men, pushing them well past the limits of what even genetically enhanced soldiers are thought to be capable of. He expects nothing but the best from them and quickly turns them into the finest unit in the program. Off duty, he is warm and companionable with them, cultivating a close camaraderie designed to foster trust and cohesion within the unit. They will all be going to war together soon. Best form these bonds now.

The one man under his command who he doesn’t seem to have any interest in being friendly with is the youngest on his team, Sergeant Jack Morrison. Jack knows Reyes has a problem with him. He assumes it’s his youth that’s the issue. He does admit that twenty-three is extremely young for the extra stripe he’s wearing, but he doesn’t think it’s any of Reyes’ business how old he is, as long as he does his job well. Everyone knows he’s the best man in the unit, and the wall of ice the chief has set between the two of them needles him where he’s most sensitive: his need for approval from authority figures.

He tries working harder, doing better, pushing himself to physical and mental extremes that leave him racked and ragged. The result is that the chief berates him for risking his health and safety in order to show off. This hurts his pride and inclines him to be resentful and sullen, which further antagonizes Reyes. Jack is beginning to feel something he’s never felt in all his time in the Army: unwanted.

He finds himself hating this place more and more every day. Waking up miserable every morning. Simmering with pent-up frustration. One day, during a live-fire exercise, this comes erupting to the surface. Jack has just reached the targets at the center of the objective and is creeping around to take them out, when he hears Reyes over his comms earpiece, calling a stop to the drill.

“Morrison, stay exactly where you are,” he barks. “Hill, you too. Everyone else, into the kill house.”

Morrison and his wingman stand up and maintain their positions as the rest of the men come trotting up. Reyes strides in through the center of the roofless, concrete-walled structure and stands in front of Jack. He keeps those ferocious eyes trained on him as he addresses other men.

“Can anyone tell me what Morrison did wrong?”

No answer.

“Excellent! Then you’re all on latrine duty tonight.”

“Chief?” Sergeant Colson offers. “He, uh…he left his wingman behind, sir.”

“Well, fuck me,” Reyes says. “One of you walking blood banks has been paying attention. That’s right. He didn’t wait for his fucking backup.”

Jack’s jaw works and his blue eyes spark with indignation. “I didn’t leave Sergeant Hill behind, chief. He was right—”

“He was right what?” Reyes interrupts. “Behind you? How far behind you was he, exactly?”

Jack’s cheeks flush pink. “About ten yards, chief.”

“Hill!” Reyes barks. “Where are you!”

“Here, chief!” Hill calls out, waving his hand.

Reyes gives Jack a withering glance and paces the distance between him and Sergeant Hill.

“Turn around, Morrison,” he says. “How exactly the fuck far behind you is Sergeant Hill?”

Jack turns slowly, swallowing hard. “Thirteen yards, chief.”

“So you can see and you can fucking count. Outstanding.” Reyes strides back up to Jack and catches him in that intense gaze again. “You didn’t know where he was. You let your ego do the thinking and you rushed the house to take the objective without your backup.”

“Yes, sir,” Jack says through his teeth.

Reyes turns to the men. “You’re all dismissed. Give your weapons to Sergeant Morrison on your way out. He’ll have them cleaned and waiting for you first thing in the morning.”

The others approach one-by-one and hand Jack their rifles, daring brief glances of sympathy before hastily departing. Reyes stands there, staring Jack down, with his bronzed, muscular arms crossed on his broad chest.

“Have fun, boyscout. Oh, and make sure you file the pulse contacts. Oxidation is a real bitch.” He turns to walk away, but his steps are arrested by the echoing clatter of twelve heavy automatic rifles hitting the concrete floor. He wheels around. “Morrison, have you lost your motherfucking—”

“Fuck you!” Jack cuts him off. “What the fuck is your problem with me?”

“You just added insubordination to the list,” Reyes seethes. “But I have several. For one, you think you’re special. You think the rules don’t apply to you.”

“The rules?” Jack says incredulously. “The same rules should apply to me as everyone else! You don’t treat anyone the way you treat me! Why am I being singled out for your special vindictiveness, Reyes? What the fuck did I do to you?”

Reyes closes the gap in one stride, standing menacingly before Jack, so that their chests are almost touching. He glares down at him, eyes ablaze. “You don’t deserve to wear those stripes and you don’t deserve to be in this program. You think you’re better than the rest of us.”

“I earned these stripes, you arrogant asshole!” Jack erupts. “And I am better than you! I’m not stronger or faster, but I’m a lot fucking smarter!”

“Oh you’re smarter, are you?” Reyes fires back. “Well, I have yet to see evidence of that.”

Jack sneers. “How would you be able to tell? They teach you to judge intelligence here, or in your two terms at junior college?”

This well-aimed shot at Reyes’ personal background stuns him. He stands there staring at the blonde for a moment, trembling with rage.

“That’s what I thought,” Jack says, with a dismissive toss of his head. “So stop treating me like a fucking—”

Before the words are all the way out of his mouth, Jack is staggering backward, spitting blood. Reyes’ fist had come out of nowhere and hit his face like a Mack truck, splitting his bottom lip against his teeth. Quick as a whip, he spins around and sweeps Reyes’ legs, throwing him to the ground. He leaps on him and dispatches a sharp jab to the bridge of his nose, but Reyes recovers instantly, flips him onto his back, and plants a knee firmly on Jack’s neck. Blood streams from his nose, splashing crimson drops onto Jack’s shirt.

“Still think you’re smarter than me, boyscout?” Reyes snarls, bearing down on Jack’s windpipe.

Jack nods as best he can with a knee under his jaw.

“Oh you do, huh?” He presses harder. “Then why are you the one on the ground?”

Jack stares up at him defiantly from flashing, ice-blue eyes and raises his middle finger, indicating that his commanding officer can go fuck himself (and reminding him that Jack cannot speak while his trachea is being crushed).

Reyes lifts his knee, releasing him from the pin. Jack gasps and sputters, spitting out blood and swallowing air in deep gulps, then he falls back onto the floor, quaking with laughter. Reyes blinks at him in frank astonishment. The man is lying on the ground, bleeding from the mouth and _laughing_. A full, hearty laugh that creases his blue eyes and softens the firm line of his mouth. Wipes some of the Teutonic arrogance off that handsome, angular face and makes him look fresh and almost boyish.

“The fuck is so funny, pendejo?” Reyes says, attempting to maintain his rapidly failing ire. “You’re about to get court-martialed, you know.”

“You fucking—you fucking hit me first,” Jack gasps through his mirth. “If I reported you—you’d be liable for assaulting—a subordinate. _Pendejo_.”

“Fuck me,” Reyes says, under his breath. He passes a hand over his brow and then bursts out laughing, too. This makes Jack laugh even harder as Reyes collapses onto the ground beside him. “You’re a fucking prick, Morrison. You know that?”

“Yeah. Don’t feel threatened, though. I’ll never be nearly as big a prick as you are.”

Reyes’ laugh rings out again and joins Jack’s, echoing off the concrete walls as the two lie there side-by-side, bleeding and laughing themselves hoarse. When they are quiet again, neither of them moves to get up. They lie there staring up through the open roof of the structure, into the deepening blue of the desert sky as it begins to fade into evening.

Jack turns his head to look at Reyes just as Reyes turns his big, dark-brown eyes on Jack. He’s never looked at them up close like this. There’s something in them that makes Jack’s stomach flutter suddenly. Reyes looks away.

“We’ve got blood all over us,” he says gruffly. “We better get cleaned up.”

He stands and pulls Jack up, leading him out to the back wall, where there’s a spigot for filling canteens (a constant necessity in the desert heat). They wash their faces and dry off with Reyes’ black bandana, then Reyes turns off the spigot and they sit down on the concrete steps.

“Are you gonna transfer me, chief?” Jack says quietly.

“I don’t want to,” Reyes says. “You’re the best and I want the best on my team. But if you can’t respect me and follow my orders, I’ll have no choice. We can’t settle every disagreement with a fistfight.”

Jack grins. “What if you just admit I’m smarter than you and start taking my advice.”

Reyes laughs and reaches out his hand, fully intending to give Morrison a good-natured slap on the back, but his muscles betray him. His hand loses its velocity and places itself gently between the younger man’s muscular shoulders. He feels Jack’s body shudder at the touch. Those eyes look up at him. Brilliant and blue, as wide and deep as the sea. He can’t look away. Can’t take his hand away.

“Oh,” Jack breathes, through his parted lips, still flushed and swollen from being struck.

“Jack…”

Morrison’s hands are on him. Sliding up his chest. Drawing him in. He means to say no, but his mouth won’t form the word. He means to get up and leave, but his body won’t obey him. He lets his eyes fall shut. Lets that soft, perfect mouth cover his, breathing deeply as their tongues roll over each other, as Jack’s body melts into his like it’s meant to be there. At last, Jack draws away and drops his heavy, blonde head on his shoulder.

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we,” he says softly, gazing out into the swiftly darkening desert night.

“Yeah,” Reyes says. He wraps an arm around Jack’s waist to pull him closer. “But not tonight. Tonight, we’ll be fine.”


End file.
